Important Note: I am NOT the author of this story. That honor belongs to Fettucini, or Oblong as he is now known. He deleted this story some time ago and it was saved by someone through cached pages and posted over at lostfanfiction. Somewhere in the process of this the grammar of the story was horribly massacred. Commas and hyphens became semicolons and occassionally periods. Apostrophes became quotes and vice-versa. Random symbols were added in place of any letter with an accent. Many words were changed from their original form to new words, especially your/you're and to/too/two. Most contractions had quotations instead of apostrophes. Periods were often just deleted. It was a mess. I've gone through the story 2-3 times now, and attempted to correct it as best I could. There are still going to be mistakes. Additionally, the chapter cutoffs were moved around. I have not corrected these, as I do not know where they were originally placed. These mistakes are not Fettucini's. I am reposting this because it was one of the better stories on Fanfiction and I do not believe in the eradication of literature. Oblong has stated in a review of a previous re-posting that that poster had not needed his permission to put the story up. Because this is the only version of this story currently on , it is still legal under their posting guidelines. I will certainly not be continuing this story, as I do not feel qualified to do so. I do not agree with some of the viewpoints espoused within the story and could not maintain fidelity of the characters if I were to write them.

Once again, this story was abandoned by the original author, do not review telling me you love it and hope I update soon, for I will not.

Chapter 1 by Fettucini

Remus Lupin, a sickly yet handsome looking man that looked to be in his early thirties, stood with his hands buried deeply in his tattered brown coat as he watched the football game being played out before him. He was chewing the inside of the scarf wrapped around his neck anxiously; this looked to be shaping up to be one of those "close ones" that were bad for his heart and health.

The rather cold weather was usually a good deterrent for anyone who wanted to spend their Sunday mornings outside, but for Remus, the temperature didn't matter. What mattered to him was watching his adopted charge give it his all to win his side the championship.

Said child was dressed immaculately in a navy blue and white football kit, his shirt perfectly tucked in and his socks pulled up high - a vast contrast to his scruffy looking team mates. The boy was Harry Potter, the most brilliant, determined and intelligent young individual he had ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Remus had adopted the boy not long after his third birthday when his father had been killed and his mother had fallen into a coma.

Neither of them liked to talk about how that came to pass. Remus was, after all, very close friends with his parents, they were like family.

Despite the tragic circumstances that lead to Harry's ever so brief stay at the orphanage, Remus had made it his mission in life to provide the boy with everything he needed, and make sure he was as happy as possible.

It would be a lie if someone were to say that Harry was a difficult child, because it just wasn't true. The boy may have a twisted, witty and often sarcastic sense of humor that would show itself whenever the boy grew irritated, it was one of the things he grew to love about the boy - one of his unique quirks. It was a unique, amusing and yet humbling experience to have intellectual arguments with a boy he was trying his hardest to raise, but he'd be lying if he didn't say it was a pleasant one.

At first, when Remus had adopted the boy, he was a mess. Having basically witnessed the attack on his parents that ruined their lives, it was quite understandable. The traumatic experience had a lasting affect on the boy. He often spent most of his days back ten in his room, sitting at his desk, and staring out the window at the sky for hours. It was extremely hard to get the boy to speak more than a few words to anyone, and when he did, it was a simple greeting before he clammed up again.

Remus had briefly considered therapy for the boy before the most amazing thing happened; Harry started to open up to him when the boy expressed a willingness, nay, a need to learn and acquire knowledge. Harry would often spy him on most nights with a glass of Brandy and a good book, reading in silence as they each pretended that the other didn't know they were there.

As a child, Remus had always been one to believe that knowledge was power, and that those without it were doomed to be weak and fail in life. It was a view of the world that Harry eventually adopted from his guardian and opted the boy to ask for some home schooling, Remus was more than happy to oblige, secretly glad the boy opened up to him. It eventually proved to be the basis of their bond, one that Remus was more than happy to cultivate.

Why home schooling and not enlist in a regular school, you might ask?

There were a few reasons, both bizarre and fascinating alike. One reason was that Remus wanted to teach the child personally first to see if Harry's inquisitive mind was any sign of his intelligence. Suffice to say, Remus was satisfied with the results.

The second reason was more bizarre than fascinating though; the bulk of what Remus would be teaching Harry just wouldn't be available to the boy if he enlisted in any of the public or private schools London provided - heck, any other school in the world for that matter. What he, of course, was referring to was that the both of them were a part of a world that existed completely parallel to the regular, mundane world.

Harry and Remus belonged to the world of magic where people could utilize and control a spiritual force from within them to perform Supernatural and miraculous phenomena that regular people would think impossible!

Remus could hardly expect the local public school, or private for that matter, to cater to that particular aspect of Harry's life, mainly because the average, non-magical folk - better known as muggles - were strictly forbidden from knowing about the magical world unless they were related to someone who was a part of it. Several hundred years ago with the muggles hosting their witch burnings in the middle of their town squares destroyed any notions witches or wizards may have had for a peaceful coexistence.

How did this affect Harry's schooling though? Well, usually it wouldn't, but Harry was a special case. With a mind that would have anyone label the boy as a genius and an understandable desire and thirst to learn about magic and all that it entails, Remus felt it was his duty to oblige his charge and teach him all that he wanted to learn. So long as Harry promised to keep up with his muggle studies, Remus indulged the child and taught him whatever he asked to learn of magic - the boy seemed to flourish under those conditions.

This is what brought them to the here and now. At the age of eight, Harry had taken an interest in football and had asked to join the local team so he could play. Remus, believing that an active lifestyle would be beneficial for the boy, didn't hesitate in allowing Harry to play for Highbury United, the closest team to their home.

If Remus wasn't certain that Harry couldn't perform magic wandlessley, he would have sworn that the boy was performing some sort of magic on the field as he played. The boy seemed to be naturally gifted at the sport, the coach having immediately placed him in the midfield where he flourished after realizing his incredible talent. Remus didn't boast to anyone about this, but it was clear that Harry was the best player on the team; it was also why he enjoyed coming to watch so much.

The ninety minutes of the match were almost up, and unless something changed, it looked like the game would go into extra time. Normally, that wouldn't be a big issue, but with the fact that their side had suffered a red card when one of their defenders mouthed off to the referee forced them to pick up the slack to cover the empty slot. Brilliant footballers for their age, they may be, but they were still just kids. Their side looked to be running on their last breath, and unless something happened, Remus doubted they would have the legs to run out and continue to perform during extra time.

Remus breath hitched in his throat as Harry received the ball from their goalkeeper in the midfield. Harry would make something happen, that's why the coach loved him so much. The boy's ability to pull out brilliant plays, virtually from his ass, was why he was so good at the game; that and he had a wicked right foot.

From the dead center of the ground, Harry gave a long, through ball down the middle of the park to their forward. The boy was surrounded by defenders and couldn't do much other than turn his back on the goal and look for a team mate to pass it off to. Imagine his surprise when he sees Harry running to the edge of the eighteen yard box at full pace, his man having chosen to run after the ball and attack the "more dangerous" forward instead of marking Harry like he should have.

The forward let of a short pass in the space Harry was running to, hoping the boy was pleased with the positioning of the ball.

It didn't seem to matter regardless. Harry's contact with the ball was nothing less than spectacular. Remus watched with open mouthed shock as the ball was, at one second, at Harry feet, and the next, in the back of the net. It was a Rocket shot! The keeper never stood a chance and the defenders couldn't even see it!

The moment of stunned silence ceased as parents, siblings and players of Highbury United alike erupted in loud cheers. The game was practically over now! That had to have been the last play! The tin ceiling of the underground area rumbled as the cheering, stamping and screaming of the onlookers shook the very foundations of the small, shed like area they were all crowded in to shield themselves from the cold.

Before Remus could understand what was going on, Janine, a single mother to one of the other boys on the team grabbed both his cheeks in a strong grip and planted a large wet kiss right on his lips that lasted for a good few seconds. If Remus wasn't so stunned by her forwardness, he probably would have opened his mouth to allow for the tongue, as things were though, he was slightly surprised, to say the least. God bless single, hot, football mothers.

Shaking out of his daze, Remus was able to see Harry running back to his position so they could kick off again, leaving his team mates behind to continue celebrating. The sight of Harry eying him from his position with an amused expression was enough to properly fluster the man.

Harry Potter sat on his bed holding his most prized possession under his right arm, strumming its strings absent-mindedly to the tune of the first song he learned to play on it. The object that he treasures above all else was none other then his mother's guitar, the very same one she used to play to him to get him to sleep as a child. He never remembered it all that well, but, if he really tried, he could vaguely recall flashes of her sitting by his bed and humming the tune to some of her favorite songs as she played them to him, it always seemed to soothe him.

Ever since he had obtained the guitar from Remus as a birthday gift for his eighth birthday, he made it a mission to learn to play it as well as she did, if nothing then for just a tribute to the mother he was robbed of as a child. At first it was stressful learning to play the complicated instrument, considering he had no real teachers to learn from; rather, he just had his mother music books with her favourite songs of all time written in them. It didn't take too long for him to master the very first song in the book, which was coincidently his mother's favourite piece.

Hotel California, by the Eagles.

Sure, in retrospect, it probably wasn't the best idea for an eight year old to try and learn to play the song that was credited to have one of the best guitar solos of all time in it; his fingers were barely long enough at the time to reach every note! However, once he learned that it was his mother's favorite song to play from her music book, it became a personal mission for him to learn and master it - he went at it with the same fierce determination he used when attempting to learn anything in his life.

It had taken him the better part of a year to get the song down to the point where he could play it while reading the notes from the book, and while most would say that it was a waste of time, especially given the circumstances, the satisfaction for Harry to be able to connect with his mother on some level more than made up for it.

Sure, he could have asked Remus to get him a teacher, and it would have been an easy task for him to do so. However, for some unexplainable reason, he extremely disliked sharing his guitar, or his ability to play with anyone other than his mother herself.

What Harry found amusing was that once he had learned to play the first song in his mother's music book, every other song after it came much more easily. He often wondered if she had purposefully intended to learn that particular song first so that playing the instrument would come easier for her too. The possibility that Harry shared another commonality with his mother always brought a smile to his face.

He often wondered if whether his desire to connect with his mother on such a level bordered on obsessive, but when he thought about it, he felt honored to be able to do so. It wasn't that he didn't respect or take pride in his father, because that simply wasn't the case, but ever since the tragic incident when he was three years old that tore his family apart, he felt indebted to his mother. It was a debt he believed he would never be able to repay.

He never liked thinking about that night, but his mind often drifted to the incident when he played his guitar whether he wanted to or not. His father had died that night, and moved on to the next life, but his mother had suffered a much worse fate in his opinion, and it was all to protect him.

Bellatrix Lestrange. The name caused him to almost lose his place in his song as a wave of hate washed through him. The woman, along with three of her terrorist friends had attacked his home in an effort to locate their missing lord during the last great Wizarding war. The woman was a Death Eater, or rather, a servant of the Dark Lord Voldemort, who believed that one's purity of blood should dictate their status in the Wizarding world, often committing atrocities and crimes against humanity to get their point across. He didn't see the logic behind such an ideology.

His father had been killed in the attack on his home, he had been told, once the events of the attack became known by the Wizarding authorities. Four people attacked their home, all of them some of Voldemort's most powerful enforcers. His father, James Potter, attempted to defend his family by taking them all on at once, only to be killed by a loose beam from the ceiling of their burning house falling and hitting him hard over the head. This however, didn't occur until he successfully subdued three of the four Death Eaters. James Potter died a hero.

The fourth Death Eater, Bellatrix, had snuck behind the fighting men up the stairs to where his mother was guarding him in his room. The two, according to the reports, traded fierce and powerful spells for a while, but his mother was simply the better duelist, and witch; however, skill wasn't always the deciding factor when fighting terrorists. Before his mother could incapacitate Bellatrix, she had fired off an unknown dark curse at him, a curse that his mother had taken for him by jumping in the way of it after he sent a stunning spell at the Death Eater.

All four death eaters were apprehended and sent to the harshest prison in the Wizarding world, and even though they had failed in attempting to locate their master, they had succeeded in destroying his family. His father was killed while valiantly holding off three powerful wizards and his mother was put in a magical coma of the likes Wizarding healers couldn't heal her of; all because they were defending him.

She now currently resided in the Wizarding hospital, St. Mungo's, in their permanent spell damage ward, under the protection and care of the hospital and its staff.

People would think he should be happy that his mother was technically still alive and breathing, those people were idiots. It wasn't that he wasn't happy she was alive, it had more to do with the fact that he wasn't happy with the situation she was in. In a coma the most experienced healers in the world couldn't lift and wasting away in a hospital, not even able to move on to the next life in death, merely wasting away. No better than a vegetable or a mental patient. Sometimes, though he'd never admit it out loud, he wished she just would have died that night - at least then, she would have been able to move onto the next life with his father, the man she loved more than anything in the world, according to Remus.

The guilt often ate away at Harry. He knew it was completely illogical, but he couldn't help it. Every breath he took, every thought he had, every experience he lived through was only allowed to come to pass because his mother sacrificed herself for him. He was living a normal life and his mother had to pay the price for it.

For that he felt he owed his mother a debt he could never repay.

It was for that reason that he dedicated his life to finding a cure for her, no matter what it took.

His mother was the reason he had pressured Remus into teaching him and helping him understand his parent's school texts, his mother was the reason he had Remus accelerate his learning in muggle schooling, his mother was the reason he played football and trained every week - he needed to keep fit after all.

No one but himself knew the reasons for him wanting to learn and become as powerful as he could - Remus probably suspected, but he never confirmed it. True, knowledge was power and he told Remus he thought as much, but power without a purpose was pointless. What was the point of becoming as powerful as one could be if you had no reason to utilize said power?

Harry continued to play his guitar as he pushed the thoughts of his parents out of his mind. It was good motivation to think of them, but it didn't do to dwell on the past if he wanted to help his mother. It was odd how playing this guitar always put his troubled mind to ease, it was like his mother was watching over his shoulder, trying to ease her son's woes - not in person, but in spirit. He liked that feeling; it was probably why he played as often as he could.

Harry finally cast his mind to more current affairs.

Such as the letter addressed to him sitting on his desk.

The letter had been delivered not an hour ago by a brown barn owl, signifying that it was obviously from the Wizarding world, as owls were the preferred method of mail delivery. He only needed to look at the wax seal that sealed the letter to know its purpose and who it was from.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the most prestigious school for learning magic in Europe. It was seen as a great honour in Wizarding society to be accepted to said school, but Harry didn't see it. As far as he could tell, nearly every magical child in Great Britain who was able to wield magic, even in the slightest, was accepted. Regardless, if he wanted to ever attain the freedom he required to help his mother, he would need to graduate from the school, and graduate well.

"It never ceases to amaze me how good you are at that, no matter how many times I hear you play" a voice said from his bedroom door, causing Harry to stop playing instantly and jump slightly in surprise. He had been so lost in thought he let his uncle sneak up on him, well, it wasn't too surprising, he had been quite the prankster while at school apparently, according to his father's journals.

Harry turned to Remus with a scowl on his face "Please, sneak up on me more you bloody pedophile," he said in jest "you don't know how to knock?"

Remus let out a bark like laugh at that "In all honesty, it's your scrawny little arse that does it for me Lucky" he said with a grin "please don't tell anyone? The ladies would be devastated."

Harry visibly winced at the mention of his nickname "I really wish you wouldn't call me that."

Remus didn't seem to be paying attention though "I really do love it when you play that particular song though" he said, taking a backwards seat on the desk chair and leaning his arms on the back rest. "Your mother used to play it for us all the time, your father in particular was a fan of it - being brought up as wizards and all, we didn't really know much of muggle music" he said, Harry didn't miss the dark look that came over his face at the mention of his old group of friends.

"Obviously, Wizarding music hardly compares, so imagine our surprise when your mother tells us she can play the guitar and starts playing muggle music of the kind we have never heard before. She had your father begging to play more after just one song, he was her biggest fan." he said with a chuckle. Harry couldn't help but smile, he loved hearing stories about his parents.

"Is there anything you wanted?" asked Harry, not sounding rude, but Remus usually had a point when starting conversations, he wasn't one to waste words when unnecessary unless he was pranking him or telling him a random joke, of course.

"Nothing much, actually, it has a lot to do with the letter sitting unopened on your desk actually" he said, casually signaling to the letter laying unopened behind him "you know, most kids usually go ballistic when they receive their Hogwarts letter, aren't you even a little excited?"

Harry just shrugged "I'd much rather continue my home schooling," he said "unfortunately, the Ministry wouldn't recognize you as an official tutor, especially for someone who's an heir to a wealthy pureblood line," he finished with a shake of his head.

Remus had to agree, but Harry didn't need to know that "Don't worry about it Lucky, maybe finally you can meet some real friends at Hogwarts, people like yourself," he smiled at the boy "I didn't think I would ever meet any friends when I first went, that was until I met your father" he said with a sad smile.

"I might be a bit more excited if I wasn't already ahead of my peers and I could still play football . . . I have no idea why they don't play it at Hogwarts - it's not like wizards and witches don't follow the sport either. . ."

Remus just shrugged, conceding the point "You could always do some independent study in your own time if you're really that far ahead, and it never hurt anyone to revise knowledge you already know" he said. "That and you haven't actually done much practical work at all, I'd imagine that would be fun." Harry nodded, it was true, he had yet to use a wand of his own to do magic, relying on Remus'." on the rare occasion when he could pilfer it.

"And in regards to football, I'd like to say I agree, but Wizarding Britain is one of the most backwards magical countries in the world, ideology wise, anyway. Purity of blood is only a real issue in some European and Asian countries, nowadays," he shrugged. "Why don't you play Quidditch instead?" he asked, a little too hopefully. "The basic concept is the same, you have goals, you score by putting some balls through them, you have formations and tactics, it's just a little more exciting," he said with a chuckle as Harry raised his eyebrow in amusement.

"Football is much more civilized sport than Quidditch," Harry lectured patiently "That, and I'm just better at it."

"You haven't even played properly yet, you've just flown on one of my old brooms," Remus shook his head in exasperation. "Besides, Quidditch is in your blood, you know, your father was the star player on the Gryffindor team, a chaser, back in the day."

"What is this?" Harry asked sarcastically "Gryffindor propaganda? Is that how they stay popular these days?"

"Hardly Lucky, Gryffindor is the house for the chivalrous and brave, and while I'm not saying You're not either of those, I'd picture you more as a Ravenclaw, one who values knowledge, intelligence and wit above all others." Harry shrugged, having already come to that conclusion himself from what he had read about the school he would be attending in a book called "Hogwarts: A History".

The school apparently had a way to sort each new student into one of four houses representing each of the four founding members of Hogwarts. Gryffindor, as Remus had already said, the house that accepts the chivalrous and brave, Ravenclaw, the house which values knowledge and intelligence above all others, Hufflepuff, the house which values hard work and loyalty and finally, Slytherin, the house which favors the cunning and ambitious. He didn't much care which house he ended up in, but Remus" guess was most likely the correct one of he were to get sorted on his current personality.

"When are we going to Diagon Alley to get my supplies?" asked Harry, trying not to sound too eager to get his first wand. He had used Remus's before and it just felt wrong to do so, when Harry asked why that was, Remus said that the wand chooses the wizard and that he would undoubtedly have better results with his own wand.

"Hmm, I think we can go as soon as tomorrow for your birthday as long as you send your reply to Hogwarts tonight" he said with a smile as he ruffled Harry's hair.

Harry scowled, but his smirk lessened the effect it usually had as he swatted Remus's hand away.

"Now, before we eat the dinner our wonderful house elf has prepared for us, how about you play me a song?" Remus asked as he smiled at his adopted charge.

"Nope," Harry simply answered "I'll be down in ten minutes; I need to have a shower."

"Wha . . . why not? Can't you play me at least something from that Jon Bovi group?" he looked pathetic with those really weak puppy dog eyes, "please?"

"You're a grown man for Christ's sake, show some dignity," Harry paused as he mentally recalled Remus' last statement "And it's Bon Jovi you twat, get it right."

"Right, whatever," he waved it off casually, "how about a Beetles song then? I love the Beetles!"

"I don't."

"Go away," Harry practically shoved him out the door so he could get dressed. "You're being annoying."

Sure, Harry respected the man for having the guts to come and claim him from the orphanage after his parents' unfortunate circumstances, instead of wallowing in grief and forgetting about him like many would; but he was just so annoying sometimes!

Harry woke up on the morning of his birthday, July the thirty first, bright and early. Unfortunately, to expect to wake by natural means with a guardian like Remus Lupin is a bit of a stretch to hope for, which is why he found himself hanging upside down from the ceiling in his bedroom soaking wet from head to toe and dripping in freezing cold water.

"Just wait, you bastard, the second I get my wand . . ." Harry muttered under his breath, with promises of pain and suffering as he waited out the timed charm Remus cast on his bed to wear off. After a good five minutes of waiting with blood rushing to his head, he fell safely to his mattress below him; however, knowing his guardian, he immediately rolled off his bed and onto the floor to avoid any other surprise pranks.

Unsurprisingly, his bed exploded in a massive display of honey and feathers. Harry gritted his teeth in irritation. That would have been annoying to deal with.

Grabbing his still unopened Hogwarts letter, he dashed out of his room lest he tempts fate just enough and eventually gets hit by another of those pranking spells. Harry quickly sidestepped an orange flash as another of Remus" timed spells zinged right past his head and into the wall behind him. Harry quickly made his way to Bartholomew's room to have his reply to Hogwarts delivered, before another spell could hit him.

Bartholomew was Remus's delivery owl. He was a fairly large and beautiful eagle owl with dark brown silk like feathers and piercing orange eyes that almost glowed in the dark when the lights were out. The room the owl specifically inhabited was the attic of the house they lived in, which was surprisingly roomy with a small window for Bartholomew to leave and arrive from. His perch was placed next to the window with a tray of water and owl treats nearby .